Fairytales
by Alianne Potter-Black
Summary: Even as a child, Katie Bell had trouble believing in happily ever after.


**disclaimer.** I dont own Katie Bell.

**so this is a story I have had writen for a while. I'm not quite sure if this is how i meant for it to go but i quite like the way it's turned out. please tell me what you think.**

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**Fairytales**

I never believed in fairy tales. I never believed in fairy tales or magic or Unicorns or any of that 'silly little girl stuff'.. I was always so realistic growing up. Barbies and dolls and make believe games always bored me. Disney wasn't an option, I didn't like Cinderella, Snow White and Sleeping Beauty, they were immature. Prince Charming didn't exist. Dreams didn't come true. Prayers weren't answered. Happily Ever After was a lie.

Maybe it was because I was a tomboy and didn't hang out with many girls. Maybe it was just who I was, I don't know now. But I did weird things. I made things disappear if I didn't like them, made dresses shrink so I couldn't wear them. But I hated that. It was weird. It was WRONG. It was FUN.

About the time I was ten years old, the weird things started happening more and more. But Fairytales still weren't real. Magic still wasn't real. Then on my eleventh birthday, a tiny man showed up on our doorstep. And he introduced himself as Fillius Flitwick, the Charms Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And he told me that magic was real and that I was a witch, and I couldn't believe him because if magic was real, then the fairytales that weren't real, could be. And the dreams that didn't come true, might. And that "happily ever after" that was a lie, maybe it wasn't so much. And that prince Charming, the one that didn't exist, well maybe he did. But then he gave me the letter and he told me all about that school and he told me to believe. And the scariest thing is, I DID.

I don't think I ever forgot that first trip to Diagon Alley. That first trip through the Leaky cauldron that I never knew existed. The first time I saw Gringott's bank or Madam Malkin's or Eyelops Owl Imporium. The first time I touched my wand. The first time I heard about the wonder that was Quidditch. That was when I met Fred and George Weasley, Alicia Spinnet, and Lee Jordan for the first time. All of them were at least a year older then me, but I didn't care, none of my friends at home were my age. They showed me everything, and I mean EVERYTHING about Diagon Alley. They told me to meet them on the train on the first of September so they could make sure I was safe. And then they left to go home, all of them but Fred and George and I was so grateful to them that just before I left I actually hugged them.

And so, without knowing it, I had just met four people that would forever change my life, not to mention my belief system.

On the train ride to Hogwarts that first year, I met Leanne- the only person that ever got me to willingly wear makeup to anything other than my own wedding- the girl that would become not only my best friend, but the only friend I would have that was not associated with Quidditch- a game I grew to adore. She just walked into our compartment at the back and sat down, didn't ask or really say anything until George asked who she was. And after everyone was introduced, the two of us became fast friends. We were sorted into the same house, had beds right next to each other, and she was one of the first people to hear my 'fairytale theory' as it came to be called. She quickly grew to be my closest friend

The summer before my second year, my brother died, hit by a car, I think it was. I invited my friends to come to the funeral, but only Fred, George, Alicia, and Leanne were able to come. It broke my heart to see my little brother in a casket, the first encounter I had ever had with death. I got over it quite quickly though, I had to.

My second year, I made catcher on our Quidditch team, and Harry Potter came to the school. My third year, we were terrorized by some…thing that petrified students and cats, I never found out what it was. My fourth year was spent in fear of the mass murderer Sirius Black, who I found out some time later was really a nice guy that got framed by Fred and George's brother's rat. Oh, and we won the Quidditch cup. Somewhere between third and fifth years, I realized that I was in love with George Weasley. My fifth year, many things happened, some good, some bad. The good thing is, George and I went out for a grand total of ten days, six hours and twenty-seven minutes, plus, of course the tri-wizard tournament (I never really believed Harry put his name in the goblet, Leanne did though and it was our first big fight). The bad thing is that my father died suddenly of a heart attack somewhere around Halloween. But the worst thing is that Voldemort came back and Cedric Diggory got killed. I can't forget that summer after my fifth year. I didn't know what to believe, what to do. I was there when Harry came back from the maze, holding Cedric's dead body and crying that Voldemort was back but the Ministry said he was crazy. The only good thing about my sixth year at Hogwarts was the rebellion: The DA, Weasley Wizard Wheezes, the teachers' stand against Toad-woman. And then came my final year. I don't even remember much of it anymore; I was poisoned not halfway through. Dumbledore died at the end of that year.

But those were my Hogwarts days. That was my schooling. After I left Hogwarts to work for Fred and George, life went to hell. George lost his ear trying to save Harry. I lost Leanne to the prejudices that had tainted the Ministry. Many people lost their lives, and for the first time in years, I remembered my child hood philosophy about fairytales and happy endings and I was scared, really,_ really_ scared. And things kept getting worse. Every day, more death. Every day, more fear and darkness. Every day, more pain.

Then came the Battle of Hogwarts. I watched as people fell. I watched those people bring in the red haired man and I prayed to any spirit that may or may not have been listening at the time, "don't let it be a Weasley." I prayed, "Don't let it be one of my friends". But, of course, the world is a cruel place to live, and that day I learned that for some people, there really is no such things as 'Happily Ever After', there are no such things as happy endings. And for Fred Weasley, whose life and dreams were cut short, there really were no fairytales, no happy endings.

After the war ended in the death of Voldemort, and fifty or so brave fighters on the light side, life went relatively well. People got their entire lives back. And certain Prince Charmings came into existence. But, even after fifty-five years of peace, I'm just not sure. I still don't believe it all to be real. I still don't believe in fairytales. And I still don't believe in Happily Ever After.

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yes, no maybe so? please just tell me what you think.


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